Jam doughnuts all round!

In life it is important to celebrate achievements, and today I have had a jam doughnut for elevenses because I have completed my draft of “The Notes of Change”.  [As an aside, am I the only person who eats a jam doughnut by spearing it onto a fork and then eating it like a toffee apple?  So much tidier than the doughnut-in-fingers method.]  I realise that there will be more work to do, but for today – I’m happy.  I have sent the file to my lovely beta reader Roy, to check for plot madnesses and general readability and likeability, and at the same time my husband will be close-reading it for spelling mistakes, poor punctuation, extra spaces and all the other typos that return to haunt us.

Meanwhile, I have been contacting the people who have kindly reviewed other Sam Plank novels, to ask whether they would like to take this one on as well.  Other more organised authors would have blog tours and the like lined up, but I’ve just not managed that this time round.  However, I have decided not to chastise myself too much for these promotional shortcomings – after all, I’ve written a whole book!  By myself!  And this “being an author” thing is meant to be fun.

That said, I do have plans.  On the advice of several people, I am planning to get to grips – or at least within gripping distance of – Amazon ads: I have bought a couple of books on the subject (of course I have – when faced with any new endeavour, I will always buy a book) and will read them while I wait for comments on my draft.  My other task in that hiatus is to apply to join the Crime Writers’ Association – it’s quite the application process, and acceptance is far from guaranteed, but as they have just opened their well-respected and much-coveted “Daggers” awards to self-published novels, I now have a real incentive to try.  And just think: if they do accept me, it will be the perfect excuse for another doughnut!

I have a plan

Hard to believe it’s been more than a month since I last updated you on my (lack of) writing progress, but it is.  Oddly, I find that time during lockdown both seems endless and speeds by – most peculiar.  But I have finally grasped the nettle and set my writing deadlines for the remainder of this year.

Given that I am still working full-time (and seeing other people’s struggles to maintain an income during the pandemic, I am grateful to be doing so), I realised that it was unrealistic to plan to have “Plank 7” ready for publication in mid-October.  September is a busy month for me with my day job (people always want training in that month – I think it is the muscle memory of the new school year and an attendant determination to leap into new learning).  And counting backwards, as self-published authors must do, to allow for the linear tasks of beta reading, editing and cover design, there’s simply not enough time.  I have therefore reset my publication date to 3 December 2021 – which is my mother-in-law’s birthday (guess what she’ll be getting this year…) and just in time for the Christmas rush.  (When I published my first book, “Fatal Forgery”, I actually thought there would be a spike in orders before Christmas – it’s now simply a running joke in the family.)

One exciting development is that I have managed to reinstate my writing retreat.  No, I’m not planning my usual escape to Switzerland – the last thing I need is to have my trip covid-cancelled at the last minute, or to be stuck up a mountain if Switzerland locks down again.  My husband has just retired, and something he has wanted to do for ages is go on a long bike ride, camping in the wild.  Given my fondness for feather duvets and bubble baths, I’m not tempted by this “holiday” – and he has agreed to disappear on his own for three weeks in July.  So I will be retreating at home.  To do it properly, I will lock my office (in case the day job tries to interfere), set up my writing laptop on the dining table and turn off my phone from 0800 to 1700 (as I do in Switzerland), and fill the fridge with M&S ready meals.  To maintain the illusion, I make even take to greeting those I see on my post-lunch walk with a cheery “Bonjour”.

All over bar the selling

Aye, as Sam would say.  It’s done.  Over the weekend I completed the final editing of “Heir Apparent” and cut and pasted it into the template that I use for the interior formatting.  It’s a bit of a beast, at 377 pages, but everyone who has read it tells me that it needs the extra space because it is more “twisty-turny” than the previous novels.  That would explain the headaches I had during my writing retreat…

I have now ordered my paper proof copy – I’ve checked it online, but it’s important to check it in the flesh, to make sure that the paper quality is good and that the cover looks as spiffy in real life as it does on the screen.  Plus, I can dance around the house waving the proof copy in the air – I just look daft if I do that with my laptop.

I have also emailed all the lovely bricks-and-mortar bookshops which stock the Sam books to ask how many copies they would like of his chunky new adventure – it’s one of my great pleasures to cycle to my two local bookshops on publication day and drop off their orders.  That said, “publication day” is a rather elastic concept: it’s all very well me pressing – with great fanfare – the giant “Publish!” button on KDP, but then it’s up to Amazon.  One of the Sam books took four (fevered) days to appear; another was listed within the hour.  I’ve learned to chill about it – but for general celebratory purposes, I’m aiming for the long-promised Friday 18 October.

So all that is left to do now is, erm, format the five e-versions that I need (Kindle, Draft2Digital, Gumroad, Kobo and Smashwords) – I’ll certainly be cross-eyed after that lot.  And then I’ll need to sell some books.  Easy-peasy.

Where next?

We’re on to the next stage: I’ve just sent a draft of “Heir Apparent” to my beta reader Roy.  This means that the whole thing has now been close-read three times: twice by me and once by my husband, whose slow reading skills come into their own as he picks up double words, missed endings, wrong tenses – and Wilson getting two midday meals on the same day in the same chapter.  When he finished he said that it was the best yet (my husband, not Wilson) – but then he says that every time.  Let’s hope he’s right, as this book was the most difficult to write: I think it has the most twizzly plot, and as I took eighteen months over it instead of my usual year, it was harder to keep it all in my head.

As “Heir Apparent” is on its way out of the door, my thoughts are turning to the next writing projects.  I’m doing a work-related, non-fiction thing in December, but when it comes to my next fiction outing, I’m in a dither and would value your comments.  As you may know, the Sam Plank series is going to be seven books long; “Heir Apparent” is number six, and number seven is already plotted in outline – and then the series will come to a natural conclusion with the disappearance of Sam’s job (all explained in “Heir Apparent”).  I have already decided that I am then going to embark on a new series, set in the same era but this time located in Cambridge (my home town) and featuring not a magistrates’ constable but a university constable – and I think he’s going to be called Gregory.  And I have two options, both of which have advantages and disadvantages:

1. Write “Sam 7” and then write “Greg 1”
   1. this is logical
   2. it means that Sam fans won’t have to wait too long for the final instalment
   3. but I’ll have to say goodbye to Sam quite soon, which will probably break my heart
2. Write “Greg 1” and then write “Sam 7”
   1. this may attract publishers who are interested in a Cambridge-set series (a local bookseller has been putting out feelers and says there is interest…), and if the Cambridge series gains a wider audience, it will drive readers back to the Sam series
   2. it delays the dreadful day when I have to bid farewell to Sam and Martha
   3. but Sam fans will have to wait longer – although I promise it will happen (I’m not going to abandon Sam)

What do you think?  From a timing point of view, whether it’s “Sam 7” or “Greg 1” we’re looking at March 2021 – I won’t be able to get either done in under eighteen months.  I’ll tell you what, let’s do an entirely unrepresentative and unscientific poll – those of us living in the UK are very familiar with these…  So please cast your vote and end my dithering!

Close reading and cover design

After the frenzied writing and word-counting of my writing retreat, it probably seems as though I have gone a bit quiet now – but that is the nature of the editing beast.  I have so far read the whole of “Heir Apparent” three times myself (including once when my printer went moody and missed out two whole chapters and I couldn’t work out why the plot made less sense than usual…) and now it is being read for typos, spelling, etc. by my husband.  He is a very precise person – engineer by training, bike mechanic by passion – and therefore good at looking closely at things.  Plus it gives him such pleasure to be able to point out spelling mistakes to me, an English graduate – the things we do for love.

While all of that is going on, an author’s mind turns to thoughts of publication.  And to that end I have been:

• Writing the “front matter” for the book – which (for me) means:
  • gathering extracts from reviews of the other books in the series – these go on the very first pages of the book
  • deciding on a classical quotation to start the book – I can’t remember why I first did this in “Fatal Forgery”, but it’s part of the process now, and quite good fun for someone who had no classical education
  • writing the dedication
• Co-operating with the cover designer – by which I mean I give him some rambling drivel about how I think the cover could look, and he creates something amazing out of it (we’re nearly there now – I’ll show it to you soon)
• Planning the launch – I’ve emailed one bookshop which (perhaps in a moment of madness after a reading) offered to hold my “next” launch party (they didn’t know I’ve never had one before).

After “The Man in the Canary Waistcoat” (book two), I did write myself a list of pre-publication tasks, which had been invaluable: when you’re preparing a paperback and several e-versions, there’s a lot to remember.  And at the end of the list, I have written: Don’t worry about a specific publication date – Amazon will publish when it wants to.  Good advice.

On a related note, you know that I have my free guide to the Sam Plank series?  When I published it, I managed – through publishing on another site and putting that price to zero and then asking Amazon to price-match that zero price – to get the guide listed for free on Amazon.co.uk and Amazon.com.  I assumed – fool! – that this meant that it would be free on all Amazons, but apparently not: a friend in Belgium emailed to say that Amazon.fr was trying to charge her 99¢ for it.  What to do, I wondered?  Thankfully, my friends at the Alliance of Independent Authors came up trumps; I put a query out to them and they suggested contacting Amazon directly and asking to have the publication price-matched across all Amazons – and it worked.  Live and learn, live and learn.

Keep buggering on

Goodness, that was a hard day.  Remember how non-writers imagine that writing involves sitting down somewhere picturesque, refreshments to hand, and waiting for inspiration to strike?  I learned fairly early on in the Sam series that it doesn’t work that way – or at least, only on a few blessed days a year – and the rest of time it comes down to discipline and bloody-mindedness.  Today was a discipline day.

I have taken to blocking out days in my diary for writing, on the grounds that if I wait until a free day presents itself, it never does.  The upside is that I do get writing time.  The downside is that I have to use it for writing, otherwise it’s a terrible waste.  Today was a writing day and so I allowed myself only until 8.30 am to clear any “day job” work and then I turned off that computer, left the office and went upstairs to my “study” (i.e. back bedroom, next to the boiler) and my writing computer.  And barring twenty minutes each for elevenses and afternoon teasies and an hour for lunch, I have stuck with it.

I was writing a key chapter – I can’t tell you what, with spoilers and all that – and I did manage to plough my way through it, clocking up just over 1,500 words.  I feel sure that most of them will fall by the wayside later in the process, but I always try to remember one of the most helpful writing tips I know.  I can’t remember where I read it or who said it, but here it is: you can always edit something, but you can’t edit nothing.

And now I’m going to sit in the garden.  Tomorrow is another timetabled writing day – fingers crossed for inspiration!

While I have your attention, may I just remind you that if you sign up here for my free monthly updates on the history behind the Sam books, you will get a free glossary of Regency terms to thank you.  And if you fancy reading the first chapter of each of the Sam books for free, you can find out how on this page.

The Microsoft grammar police

Like most writers – and indeed humans – these days, I am a customer of the Microsoft empire.  I run Windows on my laptop and use the Office “suite” of programmes on several devices.  Out of laziness, and because I am a speedy and therefore sometimes inaccurate typist, I have always turned on features to auto-correct spelling and to underline uncertain spelling.  And along with this feature is the “grammar check” which underlines anything dodgy with a double blue line.  In the past those blue lines appeared very infrequently, and usually thanks to a typo, but recently they are peppering my writing – and I don’t think it’s me.

I’m going to confess something now, so promise me you’ll keep it to yourself.  I have never studied grammar.  Yes, I passed all of my English language exams with grade A, and yes, I read English at university, and yes, I taught English at secondary school.  But I somehow missed those lessons on parsing sentences and naming parts and identifying verb tenses and moods.  I have taught myself a little of it but don’t obsess about the theory, preferring instead to model my writing on the thousands and thousands of books I have read containing elegant and clear sentences.

But Microsoft does not agree and is constantly rebuking me.  In a recent email I wrote this (complaining about fog): “I’m keeping my fingers crossed that when the sun rises in a while we’ll be able to see it”.  And the word “while” was double-underlined.  And then this (talking about the Remembrance Day service I attended): “When the vicar asked us to think of a family member lost to war I had plenty to choose from.”  This time, it didn’t like the word “war” (although it was perfectly happy to see a preposition at the end of the sentence).  Both are baffling to me.  It also picks out the words “however” and “indeed” whenever I use them at the start of sentences, and tells me off if I put a comma before the word “and”.  (I did it deliberately then just to annoy it, but that is an instance when I would choose to use it anyway – if I want more of a pause between the two halves of the sentence than would be conferred by the simple use of “and”.)

Usually I ignore it, but my fear is that it will gradually beat me into submission and I will alter my writing style to please a faceless algorithm instead of real human readers.  And if we all adopt the same Microsoft-approved writing style, how boring that will be.  Rise up against the machine, I say!

Going goggle-eyed with editing

I know you think I’ve been lounging around in a silk kimono, watching Hollywood movies and eating bonbons, but in reality I have been editing like a demon.  And I can finally report that the finish line is in sight.

I have done my last edits – so if you don’t like the story the way it is now, that’s just tough.  I have uploaded the interior file to CreateSpace, so that it can calculate the number of pages it will need to publish the paperback (328, as you’re asking).  It has now told me how wide the book’s spine needs to be, and I’ve sent this vital statistic to the cover designer, who can then finalise the cover.  Once I upload that to CreateSpace, I can order my proof copy, which takes about a week to get to me.  And if I’m happy with that copy when I see it, I will press the big, red, flashing, honking Publish button – oh, how I wish it was that exciting a button, but it isn’t – and you will be able to rush to Amazon in your thousands to buy your own copies.

In the week’s gap while I wait for my proof paperback, I will return to the hell that is formatting, in order to create the various e-versions of the book – which means taking out all of the beautiful formatting that I have just put in.  Such is life.

But in short: we’re nearly there!

And breathe…

Just a quick update to let you know that I have heard from Roy the plot man, and the news is good.  He does have some (as always perceptive and excellent) comments, but his overall view is favourable: “I found this story most enjoyable… Also, I find that you have developed your factual storytelling to include more human emotion and this adds greatly to the overall readability.  In conclusion, a lovely book.  Possibly your best.”

I cannot tell you what a relief this is; when you’ve been writing a book in isolation for eighteen months, you definitely stop seeing it objectively.  For all I knew, it was complete self-indulgent drivel, and handing it over for the first time to someone else is terrifying.

The plan now is to spend the next few days incorporating Roy’s suggestions into “Faith, Hope and Trickery”.  I will then read it all again myself, then print it out for proofreading by my husband, who is a very slow and therefore observant reader.  Then it’s final checks before cutting and pasting the text into the interior template.  At this point I allow myself the fun task of choosing chapter names – at the moment, they’re just numbers and dates.  Then I will know the page count, which CreateSpace needs in order to generate the cover template for me to send to the cover designer.  Heavens, when I write it all down, there’s still plenty to do in just over a month – I’d better get on with it!

I name this book…

Thank you all for taking part in my title poll for “Plank 4”.  The poll has now closed, and I can report that 39 votes were cast (I didn’t vote myself, in case you’re wondering – after all, I was able to choose the candidates so in effect I had five votes).  And the winner, with sixteen of those votes, is “Portraits of Pretence”.  In second place, with eleven votes, was “The Art of Perfection”.  This was my husband’s choice and he is in somewhat of a grump about it, but The Poll Has Spoken.  I would have been delighted with any outcome, as I didn’t offer any titles that I didn’t like.  Today’s job is to finalise that back cover blurb so that I can give everything to the cover designer.

And in case you’re wondering about the inside of the book as well as the outside, I have now heard from beta reader Roy.  He likes the plot!  Big relief.  He has of course made some excellent suggestions for improvement, and that’s my goal for this coming fortnight: edits.  Sadly, now that my writing retreat is over, I can’t dedicate myself full-time to it (real life will intrude, with its demands for money and food), but I will do my best.

Quick update on “AudioSam”, as we’re now calling the audiobook of “Fatal Forgery”: the recording is all done as far as the narrator and I are concerned, and the files have been submitted to ACX for technical approval, which will take at least a week.